Baby, you're my ride.

I'm exiting Jamba Juice. Three sixteen year olds are sitting on the tables outside. "Hey baby" one says.
"Hello," I say.
"You wanna go for a ride in my Honda?"
"What? No. Not really. I have my own Grand AM."
I start to walk away.
"Oh yeah! Shake what your mamma gave you!" (What would that be? Horrible skin? OCD?)
"Come on baby, I'll teach you how to ride a stick!"

Damn. It boggles my mind. I can't even begin to imagine what women who have breasts must go through.

This is why I seldom visit Jamba Juice, or Krispy Kreme, or any of those trendy places on Sunrise. Too many little douches.